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True Love
A part of the Satisfaction's cargo hold has been converted into a pocket docking bay, and a ramp folds down as Henry Morgan, starting down, settles his hat on his head. Newt follows along, looking around at everything. "Yo! Morg!" Jack calls, closing the distance quickly. "Was meanin' to come ask you if you and your crew would like to come grab a drink with us, ya know? I still got some of the shivers from the kid, some strong buzz might make it easier to forget 'er." Morgan frowns, but the expression isn't carried into his answer. "I expect the rest of my crew is already drunk enough by now," he remarks, glancing over his shoulder, "but I'll come." A slight shuffle of a nearby trash heap sends a discarded hull piece bouncing down, clattering against the dusty ground, falling dormant once more. Jack nods, having tossed only a cautious glance toward the falling metal. "Cool. I'll pay for 'em." He turns and starts walking toward the ruins, adjusting the holster at his waist. Newt looks over at the trash-heap as if startled and then sighs before catching up with Jack. Henry Morgan jogs down the Satisfaction's ramp, longcoat trailing behind him, and catches up with Jack and Newt. "Evening," he says, somewhat unnecessarily, straightening his hat. 'Aerie Ruins ' The toppled steel framework spire of the fallen Shadowheart landing aerie now serves as a twisted, treacherous conduit through the wreckage of the city. With substantial effort, people are able to traverse the rubble and the twisted metal. From ground to upper frame, it's about sixty feet. From here, one can travel back toward the landing field or deeper into the ruins. Jack continues forward, hands stuffed into his pockets. "Rough job. Least we got what we went for. Hanky is gonna -fuckin- pay extra for this shit, or I'll shoot him and his Zangali boyfriend." Henry Morgan shakes his head. "Personally, I didn't think it was all that bad," he comments, taking a cursory look around. Newt stops his looking around for a moment as if in support of Jacks statement. After a little while he sidles up a bit closer and quietly stutters, "Hey Jack. I think someone's following us." Jack frowns, glancing backwards, loosening the gun at his side. "Let's keep going for now.. maybe he's not following us. Maybe." Head faces forward again, his stride not slowing one bit, nor picking up. "Damn good eye, Newt. I never would've noticed him." Newt nods and sounding a bit pleased with himself he says, "He's carrying something too." "Did you see what it was?" asks Morgan, plodding forward without looking back. The shadowy figure keeps approaching at the same pace, bundled goods clenched in arms, oily hair flung out of his eyes with a sudden jerking of his hair. If he's aware of any notice of him, he hardly seems to register it, continuing his sneaky shadowing, following the trio as they head further into the ruins. A quite impressive number of armed and armored figures are crouched near one of the twisted railings that used to hold the domed top up, throwing what looks like a pair of dice, betting amongst eachother. Hardened, dressed in gang colors of Sewer Rats, they look like they know how to use the guns laid near them. One of them is standing watch, assault rifle in hand, watching those that go by while attempting to give the appearance that he hardly cares who does, the Vollistan's silver hair hanging down to his neck in a collection of dreadlocks. The shadowy figure cuts toward their direction, fiddling with the box as he approaches, eyes darting around and around. Unfortunatly, he never spots the red dot that appears on his chest, nor never see it's slow rise to his forehead. Before anyone can so much as react, a beautiful blossom of red and gray matter spreads out in a gory bath, drenching those that are nearby. The Sewer Rats dart for cover, the sentry heading to the body, as if to retrieve the object the dead hands remained locked around. The trail of smoke coming from a overhang some distance off suggest a sharpshooter, and the accuracy suggest a sharpshooter of no little amount of skill. Whatever it was, the sniper seems determined to keep the Sewer Rat's hands off of it. As the sentry moves toward it, the dot swings wildly, followed by a second piercing shot and a scream of unfiltered pain, the man dropping down, arms and legs twitching. A nice shot, right through the side, under the ribs. Jack winces, picking up his pace, tucking his head down. "Shit." "Up there! Get the asshole!" Assault rifles open fire on the distant target, red slashes darting through the sky, panging off the twisted metal and past. It is unclear if the sniper goes down or not, as it seems unimportant, a third group makes itself known. Domers, I believe they are called, riding in on a hovervan, hooting and hollering. Either the gunfire drew thier attention, or they had planned this, either way they're approaching fast enough that the car will splatter those heading further inwards, Morgan and co. included. Henry Morgan spots the van coming and throws himself out of the way, coming up behind a piece of rubble and muttering darkly to himself. Newt, well, does what any self respecting newt'd do and bolts it out of the way of the vehicle. Stupid nutters. Jack sends himself into a rolling envasion, huddling behind a rusting collection of metal. "Maza's Frown, I really just wanted a drink. Morgan, is the way clear?" The van splatters several bodies on it's front bumber, reinforced for just that reason, the name of their ride painted on the side in bold red letters. 'Tomin Reckoning'. Anyway, onto important matters. The Rats don't realize the threat until the hovercar is nearly on top of them, switching their weapons toward the approaching vehicle, rattling it with assault rifle. It roars to a stop, several opposing gang members stepping out, and it truly has become a shoot out. Another one anyway. "I think we should be on our way," Morgan calls across the path to Jack and Newt. Newt nods a bit and begins to head over to where Jack is. Jack nods, taking a breath when Newt joins him. "On three! One." A Domer screams in utter agony, rising several octanes in shrillness, as a pair of energy bolts tear apart his man-gear. His jewels. His pride. "Two!" A misthrown grenade is still a grenade, and though less effective then it might has been, the fragmentation thrown everywhere sends a pair of Sewer Rats down, dead or dying. "Thr-" Jack's voice is drown out, as someone uses an RPG, impacting against Tomin's Reckoning and.. BOOM! Metal and body parts fountain into the air, the air suddenly smelling strongly of ozone and cooked flesh. Henry Morgan ducks. "It's gotten a bit worse since a week ago, hasn't it?" he shouts as he lifts his head again, hitting the path at a pretty good sprint for a sixty-year-old. Newt almost stumbles instead of bolting it as the earth shattering ka-boom happens. His hands go up over his head instinctively to protect it but a few moments later, when realisation hits that all is ok, they go back down and he bolts it. The field is a battleground, the air a sharp contrast between ozone, burning fuel, and crispy bodies. Several figures in assorted gang clothes are laying around groaning or simply dead. A burning hovercar seems to be where the most action began and ended with, a hull piece reading Tomin's Reckoning laying at Valerie's feet as she walks in, as well as a bundled box like object. Jack whirls around as he yells three, but leaps back to the ground at the earth-rattering boom, landing on his stomach. A second later, and he's up, turning to run onwards after Newt and Morgan. Valerie stops and peers down at the piece of hull... and then at the bundled box. Blink, blink. And then, in a flat monotone, "Oh, shit." She turns and runs, looking for something to duck behind. Jared is not very far behind Valerie on his towards the Aerie, as he sees the woman duck for cover, he moves to join her, "What's goin' on??" Henry Morgan slows down after he's out of the danger zContents: Exits: Swiftfoot arrives from Aerie Ruins . The action seems to be dying down, a lone soot and blood stained Sewer Rat approaching the bundled object, wiping some blood from his bottom lip. A domer is crawling that way as well, every struggle a titanic use of willpower. The smell of ozone, burnt fuel, and body parts still lingers heavily in the air; the moaning and groaning of agony only lends credence to the chaotic mess that greets Swiftfoot's eyes, Valerie and Jared crouched nearby behind some rubble. Watching. Waiting. Valerie scrunches herself up nice and small, peering out at the field. "I... don't know," she answers. Sounds calm, sure, but she looks a bit pale. "But I expect I'm going to throw up again. This is really getting old." Swiftfoot blinks, and looks around, grimacing at the stench in the air. She makes her way over to Jared and Val, crouching down nearby. "Arre you guys okay? What happened herre?" Jared reaches down for his pistol, standing up and drawing it, "Shoo." he says, pointing it at the Rat crawling towards where he and Val are lurking. The Sewer Rat stops, spotting the crawling Domer, eyes going hard. A few steps, boots clanking off the hull piece that reads 'Tomin Reckoning', the only warning the crippled man gets. A boot is planted hard into the back of his neck, forcing the head down, then a sickening crunch as the gangster viciously curbstomps a man that seconds before had attempted to kill him. The illuminating bonfire of the ruined holovan servicing as light, the oily-haired man turns back to the bundled object, picking it up. A lone pair of figures are still standing now, with most dead, hidden, or dying. A Sewer Rat and a slender black girl, sniper rifle hanging from a loop around her shoulders, who approaches the man with a seemingly sincere smile on her face. Back to the job, for now, is Lucius Tullius Castus and two other armed Warren guards who approach Aurora Strand from the landing pad. From the distance they see a few figures - and although they surely cannot make out who it is in the low light, they all go into a crouch and ready their rifles, watching the scene for now. "Maybe, and some kinda fight," Val says, without even looking up at Swifty. She gags seeing the man's head being crunched, but it's like a nasty wreck: can't look away. Valerie reaches up and tugs on Jared's jacket: hey, sit down! Jared eases his pistol back into it's holder as he gets a better sense of the situation. He reaches down for Valerie's hand as she tugs on his jacket, "Let's get outa here. This isn't any of our business." Swiftfoot purposely averts her gaze from the deliberate crushing of the man's skull, but there's simply no way she can avoid hearing it. She winces visibly. "I hope we leave soon... I'm not surre how much morre of this I can handle," The felinoid nods at Jared, and makes to follow him. "I'm with you, chief." Well, yes, that would be the thing that makes the most sense. But Val just sits there. No reaction as Jared takes hold of her hand, no movement to get up, she doesn't even say anything. She just stares forward. Quickly is how the three move. After finding some cover to use and a second point to go to (behind a hovercar to the East), one of the mercenaries points his weapon at the possibly hostile party, while Lucius and the other move to dash across to their own cover. The man eyes the pistol aimed his way, but ignores Jared, bundle tucked under his arm, the other hand holding the assault rifle by it's strap. "Hey, look what I got." He's obviously talking to the black woman that just joined him, nodding his head to his prize. "Sewer rats forever right? With this, me and you can buy a ride off this mother fucker forever, start a family, like ya said." The woman smiles as she nears, reaching an arm around to hug the man. Her free hand drops to her side, drawing out a pistol, aiming the weapon at his side. "Yeah, baby. I can." Bang! Bang! Bang! BANG, BANG, BANG! The man takes the first few shots in the kidney like a champ, dropping the bundle and grabbing the woman by her throat, but the next few rounds from her semi-automatic drives him back, stomach, chest, neck, dropping down and choking on his own dark blood, trust, the color of death. "You knew the rules, baby. Sorry it had to go down this way, but I want a nice house on the hills, where I can settle down and live my life. Ciao." The semi-automatic is dropped on his chest, bending over to pick up whatever the man had claimed, ignoring the Warren Guards, natives, and visitors alike as she turns back toward the Bazaar. If she had plans of being hostile to Lucius and it's crew, it isn't apparent as such. Jared tugs Val up a little bit harder, "C'mon, let's get back to the Artemis." He says, crouching down to lift Valerie up himself if he has to. "Oh, the drama." Comments the Martian man from his spot at the side of an overturned hovercar, as the woman fires on the man. "Probably best not to interfere, even if it might bring us some coin." This time he says it into his comm, producing a nod from the guy next to him. "Move." Watching intently while his third man moves, Lucius pops a piece of gum into his mouth. Valerie lets Jared pull her upward. "Oh... yeah, yeah, right," she mumbles. "Um... which way did we come in?" Swiftfoot's ears go back as the gunfire ensues. "Hell. I don't know about you guys, but I'm going back to the ship." She ducks out of the cover, trying her damnedest to stay out of sight as she makes her way towards the landing pad. Jared puts his arm around Valerie once he gets her to her feet, "This way." He says to the dazed woman and he starts to guide her off towards the landing field. Valerie's towed along toward home, silent for a little ways, and then muses, "I was gonna pick that thing up." Valerie nods a little bit. "I don't think I'm going outside anymore..." she mumbles. Jared nods a little, "I'll hang out around the ship with ya then." He says, moving away from the scene of the gang war. Category:Classic Underworld logs Category:Classic Tomin Kora logs